A/N: Okay, so the actual challenge was to write a fic about how you got your OWN nickname, but this was more fun (plus, I couldn't think of a creative way to write how I actually got mine), and there aren't enough Itey fics out there anyway.

Enjoy!

"You need a nickname," Snitch decided.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, you say that every day. Nothin' sticks, remember?"

"So I'll make somethin' stick. How about that?"

"I don't care. Ian's fine,"

"Well, it don't make you sound like a newsie,"

"So?"

"So if you don't have a nickname, you don't deserve to sell the papes,"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. And anyway, Jake doesn't have a nickname either, and I don't see you botherin' him about it,"

"That's 'cause Jake's got a title. Jake the Oyster,"

"That ain't a title,"

"Well, what is it then?"

"I dunno. But it ain't a title. And people just call him Jake anyway,"

"Which is a nickname for Jake the Oyster. Ha,"

Ian shook his head and called out a slightly botched headline to the passersby on the street. A few of them stopped to buy papers from the two boys before hurrying off again.

"What if you were on the run from the police?"

"What?" Ian asked, turning his attention from the people on the sidewalk.

"You'd need a nickname, am I right? You don't want the bulls to know your real name. Too dangerous,"

Ian rolled his eyes again, "You've never had to run from the police, Snitch,"

Snitch grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, "Maybe Snitch hasn't, but…"

Ian snorted and began to walk a little further up the street, heading toward Broadway, "You're a terrible liar,"

"Alright, alright fine, I ain't been in trouble with the bulls. But you've gotta have nickname if you're gonna be a newsie. It's just the way things work around here,"

"Okay, then. Give me a nickname,"

"Okay, okay, gimme a minute," Snitch tapped his chin thoughtfully. Ian shoved him good-naturedly and continued up the street.
"Let's see. You're Italian, right?"

"Yeah, sure, but there's no way 'Italian' is going to be my nickname--"

"Well, then how about Italy?"

"Snitch, that's a girl's name,"

"What girl do you know who has the name 'Italy'?"

"Nobody. It just sounds…you know…girly," Ian wrinkled his nose. Snitch sighed loudly.

"You're not makin' this very easy for me, you know,"

"Well I didn't want a nickname in the first place!"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before. Okay, lemme see…Italian. Italy. I-taly…It-aly…It…Itall…I. I…tey. Itey. Huh. Itey. I think I like it,"

"You think you like what?" Ian asked, handing a newspaper to a passing couple.

"The nickname 'Itey',"

Ian raised his eyebrows at him as he got his change for the paper, "What's an 'Itey'?"

Snitch shrugged, "I dunno. You?"

"No way,"

"No! It's perfect! It works! That's it, 'Itey' is your new nickname. It's official. EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it! Three-legged dog bites mayor!" Snitch called to the people on the sidewalks.

Itey shook his head, "It's not gonna stick. Bet you two-bits, it's not gonna stick,"

"I'd take that bet, Itey," Snitch said, slinging his arm around his shoulder as a few potential newspaper buyers wandered over to them, "It's gonna stick forever,"

"Great. I'm gonna be known for the rest of my life as Itey? What kind of a stupid, weird name is that?"

Snitch grinned, "It's your kind of stupid weird name, Itey. It fits,"

"Shut up," Itey said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's true, Itey. Oh! Hey, look over there! It's Specs and Dutchy. Why don't we tell them your new nickname? Start spreadin' the word?"

"What? No. Snitch, wait a second--"

"HEY! Specs! Dutchy! This is Itey--no, he's not Ian anymore. It's Itey. I dunno what it means, but it fits, doesn't it? See, Itey, I told you it fit you," Snitch said, elbowing him as they watched the two other newsboys hurrying off.

"Great,"

"Oh come on. Now you're a real newsie,"

"And why wasn't I a real newsie before?"

"'Cause you didn't have a nickname! Didn't we go over this?"

"Yeah, but it still doesn't make any sense,"

"Of course it does. The nickname makes the newsie,"

"I thought sellin' papes made you a newsie,"

"No, no, it's 'headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes', and a nickname make you a newsie. See?"

Itey rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I got it,"

"Guys!" a voice called out. The two boys turned around and saw Skittery jogging toward them, "We're all meetin' at Tibby's later,"

"Oh yeah?" Snitch asked, "What's the occasion?"

"Itey gettin' his nickname, of course," Skittery said, nodding in Itey's direction, "See you when you finish sellin', alright?"

Itey stared in disbelief as Skittery ran off again, "I don't believe it," he said, shaking his head.

Snitch grinned and shrugged, "What did I tell you? The nickname makes the newsie,"